A Beautiful Disaster
by Rebellwithoutacause
Summary: From the play Merchant of Venice. A short little oneshot that expresses what Bassanio and Antonio felt for each other, made plainer by actions. Slash.


**_Please be kind to me, this is my very first Shakespear fanfic. I decided to write this because when I watched the movie, it seemed to me Bassanio had much deeper feelings for Antonio than he did for Portia. This is my interpation of the film, and reflects nothing of what the orginal author, or director of said film, was trying to convey. Having said that, I think you all know that the orignal story doesn't belong to me. Whatever it is you think, please review, unless you intend to flame me. If you're going to flame me, don't review. _**

The water that was cut swiftly by the boat was not swift enough for Bassanio. His mind had convinced him that he could swim faster than the boat could be paddled, though he knew it was folly. He prayed to God for speed and so ushered the boat's paddlers.

He longed to reach land, reach the home of his dearest and most beloved friend, Antonio. He had heard his friend was sick in his heart, and that it had nothing to do with his ventures out to sea. As soon as Bassanio had heard that Antonio was little like himself, he'd set out straight away to meet with his friend.

Yet something also plagued Bassanio, and it threatened to tear his heart into pieces. Being the youthful player he was, he had miss used all his fortunes, and owed money to many. None so much as to Antonio, though he did not fear those debts. Antonio would never seek so much as one ducat from him if Bassanio did not give it willingly.

Bassanio was in need of money, and it was the need that was hurting him. He had heard many rumors of the lady in Belmont, Portia she was called. And called fairer than fairer. If fair could be called fair, and so labeled as beautiful, it might measure up the light that shown around dear Portia. And she was rich, her father having left his entire estate, being so vast a sum, all to his only daughter. If Bassanio had but the means to compete with even one of her many suitors, he was sure he could win her hand.

But it was the very nature of his need to compete that caused him pain. He did not truly want to marry Portia. Not in reality. Not if he stopped lying to himself. He knew who he truly loved. Who he wanted never to be parted with. Antonio.

But who was he to even dream of expecting Antonio to return such kinds of affections? Antonio was a dear, dear friend, but could Bassanio really ever expect him to be more than that? Only in his dreams.

And so, Bassanio was left with few choices. Those of which included handing himself over to his creditors, or try his hand at winning Portia's heart, and using her sums to pay his debts off. But he had not the money to venture to Belmont. So, now he would run to the friend who he always turned to in need.

The boat finally stopped, and without a word, Bassanio leapt ashore. He tipped his hat and tossed a few coins to the workers who'd ferried him here before racing down the alley and up the stairs to Antonio's home. There he passed two men, who greeted him friendly like. He returned it, but swiftly, and with little thought. His chief desire was to see his dear friend.

As he entered the hall, he found Antonio pacing alone, having sent his servants away. The table was bare, except for wine. As Bassanio entered the room, his footsteps gave Antonio warning, and the man turned.

As Bassanio looked upon his friend, he saw a great light begin to shine in his eyes. "My friend, Bassanio," he whispered, hurriedly crossing the gap to meet him.

Bassanio threw his arms around Antonio's broad shoulders and embraced him. Bassanio thrust his head into Antonio's neck, breathing deeply the scent of which had so long left him. It smelled chiefly of wine and the younger man pulled away, a worried expression written in his eyes.

"Soft, my friend, you drink too much," Bassanio said worriedly.

Antonio smiled a gentle smile. His light grey eyes sparkled with happiness as he looked upon his friend. "Only so much as I need to see me through to our next meeting," he answered, returning his arms to wrap around Bassanio.

The younger man reveled in the affection being shown to him. It filled his heart with a deep joy, more than words could tell. And he felt a surge from his nervous system when Antonio ran his hands against his back.

As the two parted again, Antonio beckoned Bassanio to his chambers, where the younger man hurriedly followed. Antonio shut the door swiftly and lit several candles so there would be light to see after the sun faded.

"Why in such haste have you come to me?" Antonio asked softly, pouring himself a glass of wine, and then another for Bassanio.

Bassanio took a hearty swig of the wine, feeling its smoothness coat the inside of his mouth. The young man carefully set the glass down on the table beside Antonio's bed before he sank onto the mattress.

"I am in need of funds, my dear friend, soft, I whish I did not have to beg of you for more, but being the fool I am, I have wasted all sums I did possess," Bassanio admitted, reaching for the wine glass again.

Antonio came to sit beside him on the bed, and set his glass down on the second table. He glanced at his friend and smiled. "My dear Bassanio, you need never fear asking me for anything, so much I do owe you that can never be repaid by gold, or jewels." He raised his glass and tipped it in Bassanio's direction before drinking from it again.

Bassanio felt a warm glow inside him, unconnected with the wine in his stomach. It had something to do with Antonio's words, his soft tone, and deep gray eyes. Just to hear his voice was better than the sweet wine he now drank.

"What is the nature of that you whish to proceed from that requires money?" Antonio asked, purely out of curiosity.

Bassanio sighed. He did not whish to tell him why he wanted to borrow the money. Because an idea had just struck him. Maybe it was more the wine talking than it was his own brain, but either way, he didn't care.

Bassanio slowly crept towards Antonio, coming close enough so he could touch Antonio's cheek with his palm. "Before I tell you," he whispered softly. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," Antonio purred gently, letting his face lean just slightly so Bassanio better felt the rough cheek.

"Make love with me, as you have always professed to do, show me in actions what so often your heart as spoken of." Bassanio held his breath, waiting for his beloved friend's reaction.

Antonio's breath caught in his chest as he heard what his friend wanted from him. At first, he did not know what to think, the absurdity of his plea was unnerving. But then, he looked deep into Bassanio's eyes. They beheld such warmth and love, such affection and tender feelings, Antonio felt his heart give way.

"For very long I have professed to love thee," Antonio whispered. "And now you want me to make it true. My heart ushers me to tell you that you need not beg of me to fulfill what promises I have made often to the night, and to your eyes."

Bassanio smiled. He could not speak. The well of emotions inside him tightened his vocal cords, almost to the point where he sobbed for joy. Instead, he let his palm move from Antonio's cheek down to his chin; from hence his fingers stroked his throat.

The movement brought the two very close. Bassanio wanted more, so much more. He carefully let his lips touch Antonio's who seemed shy, but very willing. Bassanio used his tongue to part Antonio's lips, who willingly gave access to his mouth.

As Bassanio's tongue slipped into Antonio's mouth, the older man shuddered. He let his hands possessively grip Bassanio, holding him close and tight. Bassanio leaned into him, rolling carefully onto the older man's broad chest,

The two broke the kiss slowly, and Bassanio let his hands wind down to Antonio's chest. Carefully and with trembling fingers, he undid the fastenings. When the well muscled body was exposed, the firelight showed that it glistened with sweat from the second man's heat.

"Let your lips kiss me again, for the kisses of your mouth be sweeter than wine," Antonio pleaded.

Bassanio obliged him with a smile. He let his lips descend onto Antonio's again, but this time, the older man let his tongue creep forward. He slowly explored the sweet cavity that was Bassanio's mouth. Delight scored through Antonio as he felt the younger man shudder and give a groan of pleasure.

Antonio fumbled with Bassanio's clothing as he struggled to both pull the man's shirt off and keep them locked by the mouth. Bassanio gently helped him, guiding his unpracticed fingertips.

None could be sure how much time passed. Between the two lovers, it was like a lifetime, and a lightening strike. As they lay together, snuggled beneath the blankets, Bassanio gave a heavy sigh.

"Soft, what is it my friend?" Antonio asked, stroking the other man's rich brown locks.

Bassanio sighed again and pressed his hand against Antonio's chest before nuzzling his neck. "Ill news is an ill guest," he started slowly. "Please don't think me the latter after I answer the question you asked me before."

"Bassanio, how could I ever think you an ill guest," said Antonio, a tone of hurt and shock in his voice.

Bassanio smiled, but it was tempered with sadness. After giving a soft love bite to Antonio's neck, he withdrew, but stroked his cheek. "I came to you for money, so that I might have the means to woo a wealthy heiress, so that I might pay my debts." Bassanio paused for breath before continuing in a rush. "Please, Antonio, know that it is not for love that I seek to marry her, tis for money only, surely, you understand, if I were not so desperate, I would never do this, I do beg of you, Antonio, my dearest one, do not be angry with me!" Bassanio pleaded, seizing his lover's hand and stroking the fingertips with loving caresses.

Antonio sighed and laid his head against the pillow. "I am not angry with you, my friend," he said gently. "Only so very saddened."

"You know I wouldn't cause you this pain if it could be helped," Bassanio whispered, gently stroking Antonio's cheek.

Antonio leaned into him again and sighed. "Yes, I know; tis only the fact that my heart was so gladden for a few precious moments, now to be torn and hurt again. Like the drowning man to be thrown a line of help, only for the same line to be cut after he has seized it."

Bassanio whimpered softly and nuzzled Antonio again. A few crystal tears leaked from his eyes as he gazed at his friend. "I am sorry for what pain I've caused you," he whispered.

Antonio's heart trembled within his chest as he saw his friend's tears. He shook his head and gently wiped them away. "Do not cry for me," he said with a shake of his head. "It's not fit. I understand how things must be. Later, when you must go, see what my credit will do for you to make you outfitted with Godspeed to reach fair Portia."

"They will be looking for me soon," Bassanio said, glancing towards the door.

Antonio seized him in an embrace and held him firmly. "If you owe me anything, tis another token of your love," he said in his ear.

Bassanio shook his head sadly. "I have not to give, though I would gladly give whatever you desire."

Antonio smiled gently. "You have something to give, something that you have already given me, I ask for it again, like sweet water to a man in the desert."

"What be it?" Bassanio asked, stroking Antonio's cheek.

"A kiss," the older man whispered. "A kiss from whose mouth I find much fairer and sweeter than all wine and other pleasurable drink."

Bassanio smiled a gentle smile. "Tis yours, and more," he whispered.

The two sank into the mattress again, back into oblivion, back into the brief feelings of love to be shared only once, but to always be remembered, and forever bind them to the other.

**_Well, to make it to the bottom of that, I hope you liked this fic. If you want to critquie my work, by all means, go ahead. If you want to flame, just X and leave. However you feel, unless your a flamer, review! _**


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